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'And I followed her, he continued, 'till she come to that rest'runt where you an' me see her git the letter; she turned off right by the Midway gate, and went acrost to Wash'n'ton Avenue, an' down that till she turned to come to the rest'runt. 'Twas most supper-time, and she didn't come out no more, I'm sure, for I watched till most midnight, an' there wa'n't no back way, I know, for I looked.
Seems like we was the Isrilites a-crossin' the Red Sea, an' the fust of us is jest steppin' on de sho'. Lordy, Miss Burford, ma'am, I don't know how I'se gwine to stan' dat great day when we is th'ough, shore enuff. Wash'n'ton city ain't gwine be big enuff to hol' me." "It will be a great day, Uncle Matthew," replied Miss Burford, with elated decorum of manner.
"Dem names wuz gun ter 'em by ole Marse Dugal' McAdoo, wat I use' ter b'long ter, en' dey use' ter b'long ter. Marse Dugal' named all de babies w'at wuz bawn on de plantation. Dese young un's mammy wanted ter call 'em sump'n plain en' simple, like 'Rastus' er 'Cæsar' er 'George Wash'n'ton; but ole Marse say no, he want all de niggers on his place ter hab diffe'nt names, so he kin tell 'em apart.
He's th' biggest jackass in Tampa to-day, not exciptin' th' cinsor; an' I doubt if they'se a bigger wan in Wash'n'ton, though I cud name a few that cud thry a race with him. Annyhow, they'll know how to reward him. They know a jackass whin they see wan, an' they see a good manny in that peaceful city. "Th' charge iv Tampa'll go into histhry as th' first land action iv th' war.
Before leaving her she gave her a half-dollar to put in the plate, and asked a solemn-looking usher to show her a good seat. When the old woman returned she was interested, but critical. "I'se been used to chutch all my life," she declared, "but I never saw no fixin's like dat. Br'er George Wash'n'ton Thomas of Mount Zion was de fancies' one I ever seen; but he could n't tetch dat man.
So dey wrote a letter to Marse Wash'n'ton dat day fer Cindy, en' wanted Cindy by de 'een er de mont', en' Marse Wash'n'ton sont her home. Cindy didn't 'pear ter wanter come much.
Dunham's in Wash'n'ton, D. C., the lan' of the home, the free of the brave. What can I do for you?" He made to cross the threshold hospitably, but tripped, plunged forward, and would have rolled down the stairs had not Glenister gathered him up and borne him back into the office, where he tossed him upon a bed in a rear room. "Now what, Miss Chester?" asked the young man, returning.
'Pass on, blockhead, says th' faculty. 'Pass on, Hinnissy ye'll niver larn annything. An' there ye are. What'll ye take?" "I wudden't mind havin' a little" began Mr. Hennessy. "I don't mean what you mean," said Mr. Dooley. "Will ye have th' avenin' paper or a little iv th' old stuff off th' shelf?" "Well, sir, 'tis a gr-r-rand wurruk thim Sinitors an' Congressmen are doin' in Wash'n'ton.
Wants it! How in how can I tell? That's up to you. Git here! Sure fifty-fifty!" Bean glanced up feverishly as the Countess reappeared. She was smoothing her hair and readjusting the set of the scarlet wrapper. Her own excitement was apparent. "It's all right. I think he'll come, but it was a close call. He was jes' packin' his grip f'r Wash'n'ton.
Dooley, "while th' sthrateejans have been wearin' out their jeans on cracker-boxes in Wash'n'ton, they'se been goin' on th' mos' deadly conflict iver heerd tell iv between th' pow'rful preachin' navies iv th' two counthries. Manila is nawthin' at all to th' scenes iv carnage an' slaughter, as Hogan says, that's been brought about be these desthroyers.
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